


Fluorescence and Sunshine

by IrradiatedCutie



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: F/M, No real story line, it'll update now and then, just a collection of drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-09-12 17:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9081499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrradiatedCutie/pseuds/IrradiatedCutie
Summary: Amelia's memories are divided into two sections: Vault Days and Wasteland Days. Fluorescence versus Sunshine, Safety versus Danger, Oppression versus Freedom. This is a collection of memories from her childhood and her wandering adventures around the Capital Wasteland.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is for Butch's birthday but the rest of this fic will just be little scene's either from Amelia's childhood in the Vault or her time out in the Wastes or any cutesy or angsty bullshit I wanna write about my children.

The Clinic was still covered in decorations from the Christmas holiday, gold garland hung above the doorway, stickers of snowflakes stuck to the windows and all around the office and waiting room were strings of green and red lights, blinking in a pattern. James sat in his office, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he banged against his keyboard, typing in patient information. Amelie busied herself with organizing the mess of the clinic, starting with de-Christmasing it. She ripped the lights from the walls, wrapping them around her arm and plucking the little snowmen and reindeer from their spots on the shelves. Dragging the box with her, she headed outside for the doorway and window where stickers and garland hung. Humming a tune, she carefully began to peal off the vinyl slap on snowflakes before dumping them into a bag. As she worked, a whistling tune carried down the steel walls and slowly came closer and closer to her. Looking up from one particularly stubborn snowflake, she spotted Butch swaggering down the hall, hands stuck deep into his pockets as he whistled. 

“Hey, Nosebleed!” He called once within arm’s length of her. As she finished the last snowflake, she threw the bag into the box and turned to him, smiling. 

“Hey, Butch. How’s your day?” She asked as she went to go pull the garland down, grabbing onto one end of the glistening gold plastic. He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair making sure each strand was neatly placed and packed down by gel. 

“Eh, it’s alright. I finally turn 17 today.” He grinned wide as Amelia jumped on her toes in an attempt to pull the garland from it’s spot stuck above the doorway. As she hit the ground, she twirled around, blue eyes wide 

“Oh god, that’s right! Happy Birthday, Butch!” She squealed before whipping back around and jumping once more to yank down the garland. Butch laughed and leaned over her head, softly pulling down the garland from it’s confines and letting it drift down onto her head and around her shoulders. She turned around and pouted at him, softly pushing his shoulder forcing a giggle out of him. 

“What ya get so far for your birthday?” She questioned, wrapping up the garland and setting it in the box. When she popped back up the grin on Butch’s face had disappeared and had been replaced with a frown, his eyes shimmering with disappointment. 

“My ma got me a can of hair gel and the gang all gave me a pat on the back.” He pursed his lips back together and shoved his hands back into his pockets. He then turned on his heel and continued down the hall. 

“Happy Birthday, Butch.” She called once more, clutching the last slip of garland in her cold fingers. She heard him sigh and he waved back at her before taking a left and disappearing into the Vault. Amelia threw the last bit of garland into the box and lifted it up before storming back into the Clinic. She threw the box underneath the cabinets before locking them and rushing back to her apartment, 

***

An hour later James emerged from the clinic and locked the doors behind him, clicking off all the lights and heading for his home. What he hoped to be a quiet escape was bombarded with the clang of dishes and pots, watering running and filling the kitchen with steam. At the center of it all was Amelia, hair thrown up in a ponytail, cookie dough splattered over her face and vault suit as she scrubbed pans. Throwing down his bag and rolling up his sleeves, James joined his daughter in cleaning dishes, drying the ones he handed to her and stacking them in neat piles. Halfway through dish duty, the timer on the oven went off, beeping in rapid succession to alert them to whatever was inside the oven was done. Amelia dropped the dishes and spun around, diving her hands into oven mitts and pulling out the tray of golden brown cookies. James looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow as she began to shovel them off of the burning hot tray and into a bright white box. 

“Who are those for, honey?” He questioned, cutting off the water and drying his hands as he leaned against the counter. Leaving two cookies left on the warm metal tray, she placed the lid on the box and headed for the living room. 

“Butch.” She stated, grabbing shimmery red ribbon from the table and returning back to the box. James’ eyes went wide and he leaned forward. 

“Why are you giving cookies to Butch?’ He inquired, his voice laced with concern as his eyebrows furrowed down into that of a worried expression. She tied the ribbon around the box, making a big bow on top before sticking a card in between the box and the ribbon.

“It’s his birthday and all he’s gotten is a tin of hair gel. He deserves more than that.” With that, she clutched the box to her chest and stormed out of the apartment. 

***

Butch came home from the salon that evening, tired, discouraged, upset over the lacking of caring for him. Unlocking the door to his home, he threw off his boots at the door and slunk into the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet and filling it with tap water before retiring to his room. He collapsed onto his bed, letting out a loud groan, he leaned over to set his glass on his table and found a box with a big red box. His heart fluttered for a few moments as he took the box into his hands and sat up. He pulled the small white note out from under the ribbon and in extravagant cursive was his name. His mouth all of the sudden felt like it was filled with sand as he flipped it open and began to read it. 

_Butch, I’m so sorry your birthday hasn’t been the best one yet. I understand the disappointment of a truly bad birthday. Hopefully this will make it a little bit better.  
Love, Amelia. _

Red flushed onto his tanned cheeks, his heart pounding heavily against his ribs while he set the note aside and gently pulled at the ribbon, it falling softly into his lap allowing him to yank off the top. Sweetness wafted into the air and warmth radiated inside where Butch found more than a dozen cookies piled together. Trembling hands softly grasped one, the heat radiating against his hands. Slowly, he pulled it apart, chocolate stringing from each side, inviting him to sink his teeth into it which he did. Soft dough and thick chocolate burst into his mouth and he let out a soft moan. A tear pricked in each of his eyes, thankful and stunned at Amelia’s actions. He normally did nothing but taunt her yet she still found kindness in her heart to make him feel better. He wondered what truly drove him to be mean to such a forgiving and loving soul like hers. Sighing, he threw the box to the side and nearly ran out of his apartment, struggling to slip on his boots as he tried to throw open the door. He trotted through the halls, his heart pounding as he neared closer and closer to the Clinic. Peaking through the large window, he spotted Amelia cleaning up, wiping down counters and shoving supplies into cabinets. He turned on his heel, slicking his hair back and checking his breath before slipping into the clinic. The door clicked behind him and Amelia looked up before smiling at him, her eyes bright as she wandered over. 

"Butch, what brings you here?" She questioned, leaning against the examination table as she crossed her arms over her chest. Butch's heart beat sped up even more as his face turned red and he found himself tongue tied. Amelia giggled which just made his situation worse. His entire face was burning and cherry colored as he ran a hand through his hair. Amelia's eyebrows furrowed as she reached out to touch his cheek. A split section action changed his life. He reached forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing her against his chest as he leaned down to connect lips with her. At first, she didn't kiss back which terrified him, his heart sinking into her stomach but soon, her arm flew up and met the other to drape around his shoulders, melting into his kiss. They stayed like that for what felt eons, their bodies and hearts connected in what seemed like a moment frozen in time. Butch was the one who finally broke away, a thousand watt grin across his face as he let out a soft giggle. 

"Happy Birthday to me."


	2. Chapter 2

James stood behind his daughter who was perched on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror as he tied tied the end of her braid with a bright blue bow covered in white polka dots which matched her clean blue and white little league uniform. 

“Daddy?” She squeaked out, her little hands clutching the counter, her tiny form shaking. 

“Yes, Amelia?” He raised an eyebrow and she turned around, tears welled in her big bright blue eyes which rolled down her freckled cheeks. He bent down on one knee, pulling her small hands into his. “Honey, what’s wrong?” His question only made the tears fall faster as she buried her face in her hands. 

“What...what if I don’t make the team? Or what if I miss and the ball hits me in the face just like in gym and then Butch and all of them make fun of me?” James sighed deeply and pulled his daughter into his arms, letting her sob into his shoulder as she rubbed down her back. 

“It’ll be fine, sweetie, it’ll be like all those times you and Jonas practiced. I believe in you, okay?” She pulled back, her bottom lip still quivering but she nodded softly as he wiped away the last few tear drops. Smiling, he stood and grabbed her baseball bat and glove, handed them over to her and lead her out of their apartment. 

The Vault baseball diamond was a shrunken version of a real baseball diamond but did sport fake grass and dirt with all four bases and the pitchers mound. Amelia and the other children of the vault were lined up along the wall as kid after kid took their shot at hitting the ball, catching and pitching. Butch stood around with Pauly and Wally, giggling at the others who failed terribly by striking out or dropping the ball. Amelia stood alone, twisting her bat around in her hands. Amata had already gone and had a successful try out, catching every ball thrown into the outfield. After the kid in front of her went, Amelia stood up to home plate and began to hear the taunts of Butch and his friends. 

“Hey, Nosebleed! Try not to get hit with the ball!” Called Wally who laughed, clutching his stomach as his friends joined in. His jab related to gym the other day when she got hit with a soccer ball and had to be escorted to her dad’s clinic while her nose gushed blood. Officer Gomez led little league and stood at the pitcher’s mound, holding up a ball. Amelia threw down her mitt and gripped her polished wooden bat, taking a wide stance and lifting it up level with her shoulders. The boys ooed and she flicked her bangs out of her eyes, a strong look of determination etched on her 7 year old face. 

“Ready, kiddo?” Gomez asked, his eyebrows raised in skepticism. Amelia just nodded hard, eyes focused on the scuffed up ball clutched in his hand. Gomez sighed as he crouched down to her height as he then threw a delicate underhand toss. The crack of the ball hitting wood echoed through the baseball diamond as Amelia’s hit sent the baseball soaring through the air, above the head of Officer Gomez and passed the outfield, so far that it hit the back wall with a loud clang of metal. Gasps echoed through the crowd, both from parents and kids. Amelia stood up straight, rested her bat over her shoulder and shot a gleaming smile as she rested her other hand on her hip. Gomez looked back at her, jaw hung slack in awe. It took him a moment or two to regain his composer but when he did, he smiled and chuckled. 

“Well, I guess we know who our starting hitter is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baseball is boring and i would rather stare at a blank wall for hours than watch it BUT it does make for some nice fluff


	3. Chapter 3

Amelia was always an early riser. She enjoyed being the first one up back in the Vault, being able to enjoy the serenity of the early hours alone, to do as she pleased without distraction or harassment from others which stayed the same in the Wasteland. She would walk up normally before the dawn or just as the sun was peaking over the horizon. She used this time to clean up from the night before and head out for early trading if she was in Megaton or Rivet city. If she woke up in the Citadel she would join the recruits for their early morning fitness training or help the scientists set up for the day's work. Out on the road she would make sure they left behind no trace of their occupancy and cook a quick breakfast normally of mirelurk eggs and meat. Butch, on the other hand, loved to sleep in. If Amelia let him, he would sleep 24 hours a day without a care in the world, there were maybe a few times in his life he woke up before 7am, even fewer for 6am.

On this particular day though, both of them were feeling particularly lazy as they laid entangled together in their bed in their home in Megaton. They had just returned from a long journey to retrieve some technology located in the National Archives and both of them were nursing wounds, Amelia having fallen through a hole in the floor and injuring her back and a chunk of stone had smacked Butch in his right shoulder. 

This morning, he was the one who woke up first, eyes struggling against the light that was filtering in through the holes in the ceiling. He was surprised to see Amelia still sound asleep, her head resting against his uninjured shoulder. He noticed how the light hit her hair, highlighting the strands of blonde intertwined with the chestnut brown, a strand of red even more sparse but accentuated by the incoming rays of sun. His eyes traced the features of her face, determined to memorize it. He followed the curve of her small nose down to her full lips. He counted each individual freckle on each chubby cheek, admired how long and dark her lashes were. 20 minutes he spent doing all of this, a lightness in his heart as he realized how truly beautiful she was, how lucky he was to have her. 

“What are you staring at, dummy?” She piped up, a grin slipping into place on her lips. He had been so entranced by the color of her blue eyes with flecks of green that he hadn’t noticed she’d woken up. He cleared his throat and turned his head as a flush flooded his face. 

“Certainly not you, nosebleed.” He snapped, clenching his eyes shut and frowning. He heard shuffling behind him and suddenly there was a weight on his chest, causing his eyes to flash open. Amelia was resting the upper half of her body on his chest, still grinning at him. 

“Of course you weren’t, Tunnel Snake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this to calm myself down after a heated debate in law class


	4. Chapter 4

Going into the DC Wasteland metro system was hell in and of itself. Dark, putrid and waterlogged, the winding tunnels of subway tracks underground were the worst to traverse as they were filled with Super Mutants, feral ghouls, mirelurks, mole rats, radroaches, raiders and everything in between. Getting lost was easy and something that happened often to Amelia and Butch. Even worse than getting lost in the metro tunnels was taking the wrong exit and ending up in Georgetown. Certain sections of the Capital Wasteland were only accessed by tunnels and therefore getting caught in one of these areas was pure hell, for Super Mutants and feral Ghouls were rampant. 

When Amelia and Butch emerged from the darkness of the metro station, they were met by the sounds of gunfire and yelling, the two distinct sounds of Super Mutants. Instantly, they both drew their weapons and ducked for cover in the nearest crumbling building. What they thought was a good spot for safety turned out to harbor two hulking mutated beasts who stood on upper floors and shot down at them. Butch sprang to his feet, grabbed Amelia’s hand and pulled but it wasn’t quick enough and soon her leg was gushing blood as he began to drag her down the crumbling streets, his eyes set on the neighborhood of standing homes not too far off. Loud footsteps began to echo behind them which sent Amelia into a panic. He squatted to the ground for a moment, allowing her to climb onto his back before sprinting for the homes. The first one to his left was the one he chose, grappling up the stairs and throwing open the door, painfully aware of the blood soaking through his clothes. It was dusty inside, dark and foul smelling but it would have to do. Amelia slid off of his back and onto the couch, whimpering as she did so, the entire right leg of her Vault Suit soaked red and dripping with her blood. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She shouted, throwing her head back against the cushions, her eyes clenched shut in pain as a few tears streamed down her dirty cheeks. Butch fell to his knees and ripped his bag off of his back, diving into it and pulling out bandages, whiskey and the small sewing kit stashed away in a pocket. Amelia had fallen onto her back, stretching out onto the deflated leather couch, whining in horrible pain while blood still oozed out of her leg at the same temp as her heartbeat, pooling onto the ripped brown leather of the cushion below her. Butch grabbed all of his supplies slipped onto the couch, lifting her leg up so he could get a better position which ripped a cry out of her throat which he quickly had to stifle. 

“I know you’re in a lot of pain, but there’s still Muties out there for Christ sake!” He whispered angrily as he reached over to stuffed some gauze in her mouth. She looked up at him with pain filled eyes and nodded, giving him the go ahead to start patching her up. He ripped open the hole in her pant leg wider, allowing him access to the wound. Just from that one tug, his hands were already soaked in blood. The next twenty minutes were agonizing as Butch fumbled to sew up her wound. While he had seen her do it dozens of times to herself, to him, to the Brotherhood soldiers, he had never done it himself and her cries of agony weren’t helping his hands stay still. Every so often they would hear loud crashes, explosions or yells outside that would make them freeze, even if the needle in Butch’s fingers was half way through her skin. When it was finally over, both of their pants were soaked in blood, their hands coated in the wet, red liquid. Butch reached over and took the gauze from her mouth before letting out a deep sigh. 

“I don't know how you do that” He admitted, taking the cap off the whiskey bottle and downing a long swig. Amelia sighed, sitting up and examining the messy stitches in her leg. 

“For a first time, you didn't do half bad, I've seen worse.” She swung her legs off of his with a groan as she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. He handed her the whiskey bottle and she graciously took it, flinching as the taste hit her tongue but carrying on with a swig longer than his. When her lips parted the bottle, he took it back from her hands which were now drying, blood flaking off of them with each movement. She then took the gauze roll from his lap and began to slowly wrap up her leg, blood already blotching through the stark white bandage. When she was done, he took the rest of the roll along with the sewing kit and through it into the bag at his feet. She went back to resting her head on his shoulder, slipping her eyes closed as he leaned back against the deflated couch. 

“Thanks for patching me up, Butch, that’s one I wouldn’t have been able to do myself.” She admitted and he reached around, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

“Try to not get shot anymore, Amelia. I’m a barber not a doctor, damn it.”


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a week since Amelia was thrust out into the Wasteland, blinded by the glaring sun and while she had quickly become acclimated to the way society worked in the Wastes, there was just one thing she couldn’t get over. 

That night she sat at the bar inside Moriarty’s Saloon, staring down hard at the glass of whiskey in her hand, the music of Galaxy News Radio crackling out of the half broken radio nearby. Her eyes were intently focused on the chipping of her blue nail polish, the cuts on her fingers, the blood caked on her knuckles. She took a deep sigh and looked up at Gob, the ghoul barkeeper who she considered herself friends with. 

“Hey, ‘Melia, I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s that jacket about. It's been a week and you haven’t taken it off even to sleep.” He gestured to the leather jacket zipped all the way up over her vault suit despite the heat within the bar. She let out a deep sigh before finishing off her whiskey in one fell swoop. She slid her glass over to him and he reached under the counter, pouring more of the golden liquid into the cloudy, chipped glass. 

“It belongs to this guy I knew back in the Vault. He gave it to me when I was escaping. We were...really close to say the least.” She admitted, wrapping her fingers back around her newly refilled glass. Gob cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. At this point Nova had leaned over the bar counter, intruding on their conversation.

“Yeah but did you love him?” Nova asked, a cigarette hanging limply from her cherry red lips, her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat. Amelia smiled sadly and nodded slowly, connecting eyes with Nova. The working girl sighed, wiped her forehead and lit up her cigarette, hollowing out her cheeks to breath in smoke. 

“How quaint. What’s this fella’s name?” She asked, blowing smoke from her nose. Amelia sighed once more, so obviously melancholy over the topic of interest as her eyes drifted back to her rugged hands.

“His name’s Butch and he’s tall, got this soft black hair and brilliant blue eyes. He tries to act all tough and bad but he’s a soft dork underneath it all. He makes me laugh too, god does he know how to make me laugh.” She thought of Butch, his goofy smile, the sparkle in his eyes. Nova chuckled and shook her head. 

“God, you’re love sick, kid.” Nova stood up straight and wandered over to another bar patron, hitting them up in conversation. Amelia’s smile faded as she felt a hole open up in her heart, even more so than before. She missed Butch so much, every part about him, even the things that bothered her like his affinity for hair gel and his habit of calling her nosebleed. She would do anything just for him to grin at her, call her nosebleed and run his hands through her hair. 

“God, Nova’s right, you’re love sick.” Gob reiterated, shaking his head as he wiped down the bar. Amelia’s eyes glassed over, tears hazy, blurring out her ability to focus. She clenched her eyes shut, sniffled softly, a hitch rising in her throat. All she saw was him, his pearly white teeth, tanned skin, firm yet gentle hands. 

“It’s more than that, Gob, I’m homesick.” 

“You said you hated that steel prison.”

“Not the vault, Gob...Butch...Butch is my home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever have an idea, prompt or just sentence starter you want to see with Butch and Amelia, just comment it and I'll eventually get around to it! I'm always looking for new ideas!!!


	6. Chapter 6

There wasn’t much left of Catherine but enough for Amelia to know who she was. James had given her the bible that her mother had carried which sat on her bedside table, forever bookmarked to her mother’s favorite verse, a copy of which hung above her bed. A picture of her mother, her short strawberry blonde hair, freckled tanned skin and blue eyes with a wide, kind smile was always in her vault suit pocket. Another photo of her father and mother, arm in arm on their wedding day sat on her desk in her bedroom, the happy couple beaming up at her. James told her every day how proud her mother was of her, that if she was here she could not be happier with the type of person Amelia was. It was when she was 13, she finally felt truly connected to her mother. 

She was sitting in her room, buried deep into her history book, high lighter clutched in hand as the other furiously scribbled onto a piece of paper. James knocked on the door and slowly swung it open but it did not cause Amelia to peel her eyes from the book. He just smiled and leaned against the doorway, pride swelling in his heart as he watched how deeply involved his daughter was with her studies. He cleared his throat and she finally set down her pencil and highlighter, swiveling around in her chair, a grin on her face. 

“Sorry dad, I was really on a roll.” She admitted, the cheeky grin widening on her pale face. He chuckled and walked over to her desk, shaking his head. 

“You definitely have your mother’s thirst for knowledge.” He smiled down at her and she nodded, looking back at her book before up at him again. 

“Do you need anything?” Amelia asked, wonder in her eyes. James sighed and knelt down, setting his hands on her knees. 

“You know how much I love your mother, how much I miss her.” He lowered his eyes, a sad smile taking over his features. Amelia’s own grin dissipated and she nodded. 

“Well, you’re old enough now, so I think it’s time you should have this.” He dug into his shirt pocket and out her pulled a delicate silver chain and on the end was a delicate cross, glinting and sparkling in the light. He stood and walked behind her, laying the chain at her neck and clasping it at the back. She touched it with a tentative hand and looked up at her father. “It was your mothers and before that it was her mother's, and her mothers and so on. I know she would want you to have it instead of it sitting in a dusty box. One day, I hope, you’ll give it to your child.” Tears brimmed on his bottom lids and Amelia jumped to her feet, wrapping her arms around her father and squeezing him tight. He smiled, hugging her back. 

Two weeks later she was at little league practice, sitting on the bench as she watched the other kids run drills. She sat with her bat between her knees, waiting for her turn to practice hits. Just then, Wally Mack and Butch walked up to her, smirks on their faces. She felt her heart sink, anxiety over taking her. 

“Hey there Nosebleed, what ya doin?” Questioned Butch, crossing his arms over his chest. Amelia shrugged and looked past him to watch as the coach, Officer Gomez, ended drills, calling the kids over to him. 

“Waiting for my practice turn.” She stated, standing up as the coach blew the whistle and waved her over. She nodded and began to walk away from the two. 

“Woah woah woah, wait a sec!” Wally called, reached out for her. He grabbed at her necklace and pulled hard, snapping the chain as he yanked her back. Her necklace fell to the ground as she spun around, horror on her face. Butch gasped audibly as Wally just smirked at her. Amelia didn’t stop to think as she rose her bat and swung it hat him, cracking him across the face, blood flying from his nose. A screech erupted from Wally was he fell to the ground, nose gushing blood onto his uniform. Coach Gomez came jogging over as Butch bent down to pick up Amelia’s broken necklace. 

“What in the world is going on over here?” Gomez wondered, looking at the scene before him. Amelia began to cry as Wally still sat on the ground, hands cupped over his nose. Butch looked up at the coach and wrapped his arm protectively around Amelia and began to lie straight through his teeth. 

“Wally was picking on Amelia and hit her then he broke her necklace. It was her mom’s and I felt bad so I took her bat and hit him.” He told Gomez, placing the blame completely on himself. Amelia looked over at Butch in a daze, baffled by his sudden willingness to help her. Gomez sighed, helping Wally up off the ground. 

“Here, give me the necklace,” He held out his hand and Butch hesitantly gave it to him. “I’ll fix the necklace, take Wally to the Clinic and Butch, I’m gonna have to suspend you for the next 3 games.”

It was three days later when Amelia was walking home from class that Butch ran up, handed her the necklace and the sprinted off again. She never properly thanked him.


	7. Chapter 7

It was the first song they ever danced to, the smooth instruments, the soft baritone voice, the sweet lyrics. 

They were just 17, at the end of the year vault dance held for the older kids. Amelia had spent so much time worrying about this exact moment, the slow dance, she was so concerned she forced her dad to practice with her. Butch had worried too but he was too embarrassed to tell a single soul so he simply danced by himself in his room, the door locked late at night. She had spent so much time on her appearance that night, he could tell. She wore a dress the same color of her eyes, a cerulean blue speckled with silver sparkles. Her cross hung delicately against the hollow of her neck. Her lashes were long and dark, her lips pink and perfect. She looked so god damn stunning to him, she had taken his breath away when he picked her up that evening. Most of the dance goers had left, only a handful of couples left when the song came on. Both of their hearts leapt into their throats when it started and Butch took her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor, trying to keep from shaking. He turned to face her, even in the low light he could tell how bright red her cheeks were. She wrapped her arms around his neck, still short even with the heels as his hands instinctively wrapped around her waist. 

_Wise men say, Only fools rush in, But I can't help falling in love with you, Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you Like a river flows, Surely to the sea, Darling, so it goes, Some things are meant to be_

Slowly, they began to sway back and forth, their anxieties disappearing as the song dragged on. Butch couldn’t help but stare deeply into her eyes, which sparkled in the dim lighting. Closer they got to each other until they had their chest pressed against one another. Slowly as the song ended, their lips met for the second time ever, it was sweet and lovely and everything they both wanted and needed. 

***

Radiation was not nice to records, which is why Galaxy News Radio had a limited list of songs able to be played. Amelia sought to change that and once Three Dog gave a location of an old record store, she nearly sprinted to it. While she loved the music played by the station, it was always nice to mix it up every so often. A few mole rats occupied the premises but they were no match for the baseball bat Amelia wielded. Once the danger was gone, her and Butch went to work scavenging through the shelves and boxes for records that weren’t melted, warped, broken or shattered. The whole ones were few and far between but those that were deemed passable were given a shot. They had gone through a good two dozen records with around fifteen producing actual songs that played all the way through and were understandable. They were on the last record, Amelia sat it gently on the plate of the turntable, placing the needle over it and pressing the start button. Slowly, the song crackled out and their hearts swelled up with a certain nostalgia. Amelia smiled at Butch and he held his hands out to which she graciously took. 

_Like a river flows, Surely to the sea, Darling, so it goes, Some things are meant to be_

Their hands clasped together as Butch rested his other on her hip and Amelia’s on his shoulder. Slowly, they swayed back and forth, cheeks red and smiles wide with unadulterated joy. They played the song three more times before packing it up into its sleeve and setting it with the rest of them and with joyous grins, they headed back to Galaxy News Radio. 

***

Their wedding was planned within the span of a week with the help of Father Clifford and Three Dog. When the ceremony finally took place, the pews of the Chapel within Rivet City were completely jam packed with people attending the wedding of the two crazy Vault kids. Butch was dressed the nicest Amelia had ever seen in the cleanest tux in all of the Wasteland. Amelia was the most stunning Butch had ever seen, surpassing the night in the vault. Front row of the pews was Three Dog, Elder Lyons and his daughter Sarah, Agatha, Moira, James and a framed picture of Amelia’s mother. 

No one could keep the grin off of their face as Amelia walked down the aisle, clad in a handmade dress commissioned by Bannon of Potomac Attire. As the couple stood in front of Father Clifford, their own grins were wide and pure as they clasped each other's hands. Once they took their sacred vows and shared their first kiss as husband and wife, the guest went wild, cheering, laughing and hollering. Everyone was ushered out as Father Clifford and a few others cleared the room of pews and lined the walls with tables filled with food provided by Gary’s Staley of Gary’s Galley, seeing as Butch and Amelia had helped his daughter with her own wedding. A radio and old speakers provided by the science lab sat up where the podium usually was and as the newlyweds entered, Three Dog stood next to it and the room fell silent. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it is I, Three Dog! And I am proud to present the Capital Wasteland’s very own Wasteland Messiah’s, Butch and Amelia!” He grinned as applause filled the room for a few moments before it went silent again. “Now, for their first dance as man and wife!” He flicked on the radio and after a few moments of silence, their song came crackling through the speakers.

_Take my hand, Take my whole life, too, For I can't help falling in love with you, For I can't help falling in love with you_

In a few habitual movements, they were arm in arm, dancing back and forth, feet moving in sync to the music. As they gazed into each other's eyes, they couldn’t help but think about all of those times they danced together. After all the years of loving each other, fighting together, surviving together, they were able to make it to this point, not unscathed but still alive, still in love. Butch spun Amelia around and she fell into his arms, giggling happily. With perfect timing, they pressed their lips together, bodies molded together as one, as the song slowly faded out, leaving silence around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was working on an essay and i had my music on shuffle and can't help falling in love came on and i just couldnt stop thinking about butch and amelia dancing together so i just...i had to...


	8. Chapter 8

#  Filthy 

In the vault she had been the picture of cleanliness, she showered every night, always brushed her teeth and her vault suits were always pressed and vibrant. The Wasteland changes so much, doesn’t it? Now Amelia was always covered in something whether it be sweat, dirt, blood or some sick combination of them. 

 

At first she hated it, despised the feeling of sweat clogging her pores, dust tangling in her hair and dirt caked under her chipping blue nails. Her fourth night in Megaton she lost it, stripped down to nothing but her underwear and broke the sink in the bathroom of Moriarty’s Saloon, sitting under the spitting pipe, drenching herself in irradiated water. When Gob and Nova picked the lock to the bathroom door, they found her huddled under the water, it pouring down her face as she mumbled “Filthy…filthy…filthy…” over and over again until she finally fell asleep in Gob’s arms after Nova had pumped her full of 3 bags of RadAway. 

 

It took her a good month to finally come to terms with the fact that she was going to remain filthy unless some miracle of god found her a working shower. After accepting her fate, she was able to fully commit herself to finding her father. Of course by that time, she had already discovered he was held up in Vault 112 and had even been reconnected with Butch who had escaped the vault 3 weeks after she had. (He took even longer to get acclimated to the Wasteland’s lack of hygiene and hair gel) 

 

When she stepped out of that virtual reality pod, she stumbled on weak feet to find her father who was also struggling to stand easily. Once within arms reach, all she could do was look at him stunned, unable to gather her thoughts, her words. 

 

“Good god’s Amelia! You’re so dirty!” He exclaimed, reaching out to touch her dirty caked cheek. Her lips broke into a grin and she laughed, pulling him into a hug. 

 

“Dad, I’m down right filthy.”

# Tender

She was truly a thing of beauty to him. Everything about her was soft, squishy, tender in his hands, against his finger tips and lips. Butch could spend hours just admiring her, not even touching, just exploring with his eyes, intent on memorizing every shape of her. 

 

From the length of her lashes to the width of her nose, the plump of her cheeks and the curves of her lips. Silky thighs, gentle hands and soft breasts. It didn’t stop at her body, all of Amelia was soothing. A kind heart, a tender soul and a voice that sang words of adoration. 

 

Even in the Wasteland when her lips chapped, her skin tanned and freckled, her thighs and stomach lost their squish, she still maintained an amorous heart. She could kill a hundred men, bathe in their blood and turn around to soothe a crying child, give out her last bottle of water to a dying man, or mend the wounds of a woman caught in the crossfire.   
Everything she did made Butch want to hold her, love her, shower with the affection she deserved more than anyone he had ever met. Amelia, his Amelia was a beautiful woman inside and out, the most tender, gentle being to ever walk the Wastes and every waking second he wanted to let her know just how lovely she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these r two drabbles from tumblr asks i got if u ever wanna send me requests or ideas follow my tumblr irradiated-cutie.tumblr.com


	9. Chapter 9

There was not an evil bone in Amelia's body, every fiber, every cell of her was honorable, humble and kind. She learned to fight for her survival and only that, she never wished to have someone's blood on her hands, metaphorically or literally. Then she met the Colonel. 

Colonel Augustus Autumn was a stocky man, tall and lean but strong under his tanned robes. He was the one who took the purifier away from her, sent his tin can soldiers in to steal what was hers in birthright so they could kill half the wastes. He then kidnapped her, brutiliazed her and the love of her life and did nothing but mock her, belittle her. When President Eden turned her loose in the Enclave compound Autumn sent his dogs after her. She fought her way through a red and green laser show before short circuiting their homecoming president to send him into self district. 

As a robotic voice counted down to eventual supernova, Amelia ran back through the metal corridors and when she came face to face with the ginger leader. Without hesitation she fired her Blackhawk before he could even clear the leather of his holster. Her .44 cal bullet barreled into his shoulder and sent him sprawling onto the metal beneath his feet. She charged at him, her animalistic sense for revenge beat through her like a second heart, a second life line. She ripped the combat knife from her calf, sent it plunging into his chest, adding to the crimson blooming across his clothes like macabre flowers. As he struggled less under her, she went for his face, scraping into bone past the skin and muscle. The thin, fine features were painted red as each dive leaked more and more, soaking into his hair, turning it from a golden sunshine hue to that of dark burgundy almost black. 

Even as Butch screamed at her, even as the timer counted closer to death, she refused to move. Butch had to pull her off, drag her on lead legs out of the compound as she screamed, still waving her knife like a maniac, drenched up to her elbows in blood. When they got outside, she was blinded by white hot light just like she had been the first time she stepped from the vault. As they ducked behind a large coupling of rocks, the doors off of Ravenrock blew off, deafening her ears as magnificent flames consumed the structure. In any other case, she would have crumbled into a sobbing mess but now, she laughed. A horrific, guttural laugh rose from her throat as she watched three vertibirds fly off into the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while standing in line to check into college and my anxiety was killing me so I got some of it out with violence


	10. Chapter 10

Since the age of 8, Amelia heard all of those around her call Butch bad. Sometimes the words they used were meaner, most of the times when they used the harsher words they didn’t realize little Amelia was still in the room, tucked away in a corner or occupied with something else, so quiet they forget she existed with them. 

Immoral.

Crooked.

Corrupt.

Sinful.

**Evil.**

The last one always stuck out to her, made a funny feeling bloom in her chest. _Evil?_ She thought, _Butch isn’t evil, he’s just…_

That’s when she would sit there and question herself, the internal struggle of her opinions of her childhood bully increased as she aged. Every time Butch would call her nose-bleed, nerd or teacher's pet, anger erupted in the bit of her stomach and she understood why the adults around her always glared at him. But then there were times Butch smiled at her, offered her his laughter and his affection. A sly smile, an unseen wink directed towards her made her heart flutter. There were times when he’d get into fights with Wally over her, he’d defend her arguments in class to Mr. Brock, fought tooth and nail to keep her as the starting hitter when Officer Gomez wanted to replace her with Freddie who Butch said “couldn’t hit a ball if his life depended on it.” 

She had done the same for Butch, while she never acted out towards him, she was always willing to lend him a helping hand. She shared her lunch with him when his mother forgot to pack his own, she patched up wounds from every fight he got into and more than once she had allowed him to cheat off of her tests, ignoring the frustrated tears in his blue eyes. 

Conflict of interest, of feeling was a daily struggle for Amelia when it came to the subject of Butch. Everything else was always clear to her, direct and easily laid out. She finally made her decision on how she felt about Butch when they were 14. 

Amelia had spent most of her afternoon studying in the Vault’s common area, surrounded by her books and papers, eagerly eating up information like she couldn’t get enough. After three straight hours of quick paced writing and page flipping, Amelia’s eyes burned, her hand felt like it was going to fall off and she had done way more work than needed. Packing most of what she had spread out around her into her book back, she stuffed her history book with her papers and cradled it in her arms as she began to wander through the steel halls to get back to her apartment. It was past 5pm, most people having returned from their work already, shut away within their own apartments, eating dinner and sharing stories with family members.

As she made her way down the hall, she heard loud yelling echoing from behind one of the doors. She recognized the place of it’s origin to be that of Butch’s home and while the tone of whatever argument was happening inside was not that of peace, Amelia couldn’t make out any of the words. She stood there, by the door, frozen in curiosity and some sense of pity when she heard a loud crash that moments later was followed by the front door flying open. Butch had an angry red welt on his left cheek, angry hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He turned towards her and stalked by, his hands by his side in shaking fists. 

“Butch.” Was all she managed to get out before he knocked into his shoulder, sending her book flying out of her hands, her papers scattering to the floor. 

“Move it, Nosebleed!” He yelled as he stalked down the hallway, his steps heavy, his shoulders tense. Amelia instinctively dropped to her knees and began to gather her papers in her hands as Butch’s footsteps echoed down the hall, getting quieter and quieter as the seconds passed. Something clicked in her brain and she stood to her feet, dropping her papers before turning on her heel before sprinting down the corridor, following the sound of his heavy footsteps. She found him quickly, standing in the middle of the stairwell on the flat level that separated two sets of stairs. As soon as she was within arms length, she pulled on his sleeve, her mouth open to say something. 

“WHAT?!” He barked, whipping around, his hand half raised in the air which caused her to flinch, fear striking into her eyes and he stopped, the tears in his eyes falling faster as he fell to his knees, letting go of whatever sense of pride he had left as he began to sob at her feet. Amelia frowned and dropped to her own knees before wrapping her arms around him. 

“Everyone’s right...I am evil.” He mumbled through sobs, burying his face into her shoulder. She felt her heart break at his statement, the frown on her own face deepening. 

“You’re not evil.” She responded, running one of her hands through his hair, the other hand rubbing up and down his back. He shook his head, his breath hitching before he looked up at her. He was in a state she had never seen him and it really did break her heart, tears coming to her own eyes. 

“Why are you so fucking nice to me?” He questioned, sitting up and grabbing her by the shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed. She looked at him with sadness in her eyes, a million thoughts were running through her head, her heart thumping against her chest and she realized how gorgeous his eyes were, a beautiful blue that were what she imagined the sky to look like. 

“Because you deserve it!” She blurted out, banging her fists against the steel floor beneath her, frustration taking hold of her, “You’re not a bad person and every time someone says you are I want to scream at them, shake them until they understand.” She then started crying, overwhelmed and angry. “You’re good, you have a good heart, Butch!” His head fell, his eyes focused on his lap.

“Then why do people say that I’m evil.” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper as he sounded utterly broken and defeated. Amelia’s hands reached out and lifted his head up so she could stare him in the eyes. 

“Because they don’t want to get to know who you truly are.” There was then a moment of silence that hung between them before Butch grabbed her by the shoulders again and kissed her. She was shocked, frozen for a moment before she kissed back. _Gods_ , she thought, _he’s so warm and soft._ She sighed out through her nose and melted into hit and his hands found themselves on her waist, her arms draped around his shoulders. What felt like an eternity later, they broke apart, breathless and red faced. 

“You’re too good for me.”


End file.
